


time enough

by cirrus (themorninglark)



Series: SASO 2017 [12]
Category: Kuroko no Basuke | Kuroko's Basketball
Genre: Challenge: Sports Anime Shipping Olympics | SASO 2017, Introspection, M/M, Post-Canon
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-06-25
Updated: 2017-06-25
Packaged: 2018-11-18 19:45:47
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 619
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11297577
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/themorninglark/pseuds/cirrus
Summary: “We were kids, and we made mistakes. That’s all, I guess.”





	time enough

**Author's Note:**

> Written for SASO 2017 Bonus Round 2: Tic-Tac-Toe | Prompt: if i could turn back time  
> [originally posted here](http://sportsanime.dreamwidth.org/22249.html?thread=12202985#cmt12202985)

It had been Kise’s idea to go back to Teikou.   
  
Nostalgia, to Kuroko, is akin to his own shadow trailing on the pavement. It’s not like he can ever truly separate himself from his past. At the same time, he doesn’t have much of a use for it. Standing here at the school gates with Kise, the only thought that drifts through his mind is that they don’t seem as tall they used to.  
  
“Good old Teikou,” says Kise, faint light tugging on the corner of his lips as he turns to Kuroko. “Let’s go in.”  
  
In the day, the building gleams a brilliant, blinding white, but it is at this hour that Kuroko knows it best, shrouded in crimson and the lush regalia of a late summer’s sunset. This was his view for three years, looking over his shoulder.   
  
Kise never looked over his shoulder. He doesn’t now, as he leads the way across the courtyard and round the building; it is only when Kuroko reaches out, touches him on the arm, that he takes a breath and slows his restless pace for a second. The ground is dry in this scorching August, and he’s kicked up little clouds of dust and gravel at his heels. It’s so like Kise, to race ahead like he could become the wind itself.  
  
“We have time, Kise-kun,” Kuroko murmurs, and takes Kise’s hand in his.  
  
Kise laughs. “What are you talking about? I’m flying off tomorrow morning.”  
  
“We have time now,” says Kuroko.  
  
He does not ask where they are going. He does not need to, for Kise wears his longing plain on his face, and even if Kuroko does not understand, not completely, he will be there when Kise finds whatever it is he seeks. A regret, a moment, however fleeting, when they were carefree—a crushed can of cola, a candy wrapper that someone left behind on a doorstep—  
  
The gym is shut, the windows dark. There is only silence spilling from the crack beneath the door. Kuroko feels Kise’s hand tense, watches those bright eyes flicker and fade, and flicker again.  
  
It is in Kise’s quiet that Kuroko holds him closest of all.  
  
“It really wasn’t the same after we left, huh? Teikou’s basketball.”  
  
“I think,” says Kuroko, “it was better that way.”  
  
He can still picture the basketball court beyond those locked doors. Those battle lines, those assurances they threw about so callously, filled to the brim with youth wasted on the young. A hollow gash of an old scar that never healed right. All of those things, and yet—  
  
“You know, Kurokocchi, I didn’t know what I would feel. Coming back here. That’s why I wanted to try,” Kise admits.   
  
Kuroko nods. “So how do you feel?”  
  
It takes Kise a while to answer.   
  
“Like we were—we were _kids_ ,” he says, at last. He lets out a melodramatic sigh, then, that makes Kuroko smile; that spark still burns in Kise, a stubborn hope that never got snuffed out. At first light, it had led him straight to Kuroko’s side for answers, for friendship, for more.  
  
“We were kids, and we made mistakes. That’s all, I guess.”  
  
Kuroko turns, looks up to meet Kise’s gaze.  
  
“Would you turn back time, Kise-kun?” he asks.  
  
Kise shakes his head. He shoots Kuroko a grin that glints sharp around the edges, just for a second. This is the Kise whose kisses ache, sometimes; this is the Kise tempered by everything they’ve been through. There is a fierce hearth that smoulders steady in Kuroko’s chest. The embers are a sunlit gold.  
  
“Nah. Wouldn’t dream of it. What about you, Kurokocchi?”  
  
“We have time now,” says Kuroko, again, and Kise smiles.


End file.
